In other words, Gloria thought, the status quo has to be kept. And that, too, made sense when you thought about it.
She looked up to see Harold Meedy smiling across the room at her. She smiled back, very briefly, and went back to her own work.
"Interpersonal relationships within the office framework," a teacher—Mr. Greystone?—had said, "are fraught with danger, and should be handled with the greatest care."
If Harold Meedy wanted to get acquainted with her, that was his affair. She didn't feel that she could conscientiously encourage him in the slightest. Not only was he a fellow worker, which made the whole situation more complicated than it would ordinarily have been, but he was a small pudgy man with pimples and an earnest expression. He looked as if he would be a bore, and a difficult person to get rid of.
He was.
Gloria just didn't think he was exactly her type.
And if he went on trying, she thought regretfully, she would be forced to do something about it. Of course, Meedy would never know the difference, but even so, Gloria didn't like to do any unnecessary work. Changing someone's mind was a delicate job, and a responsible one, not to be undertaken for a small motive.
Even if the person never knew his mind had been changed at all—
Mrs. Wladek, in her apartment, shrugged on an old coat and compressed her lips with weariness. Appointment time was near, and a person had to be punctual.